


A Tour or a Date?

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: Requests: PLEASE WRITE A FIC ABOUT MICK AND Ketch/Mick trying to impress R/O, R/O is a Winchester too. AND For your BMoL marathon, can I request a fic where Mick shows the reader the headquarters and tries to impress her while they’re there, maybe ending in a dinner date and smut? With very fluffy, loving smut <3 Thank you!





	A Tour or a Date?

Warnings: Mentions of drinking alcohol, smut. I think that’s it.

Fic:

“How the Hell did you keep getting in here?” you shout, pulling your gun on the intruder. The door had been unlocked and you had known something was wrong. Mick seemed unfazed, sipping from his tumbler glass.

“This is a Men of Letters Bunker, Love, I do have a key,” Mick tells you.

“You had a key, which I took the last time you broke in here,” you remind him.

“Perhaps I found another,” Mick tells you.

“Or perhaps you picked the lock,” you retort.

“Perhaps,” he smiles, tipping his glass to you, “Or perhaps I stole my key back.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, the same key you had taken from him. You quickly reach into your pocket and find it empty, making you frown. The sneaky bastard had picked your pocket and you couldn’t even figure out when he’d done it.

“How did you … never mind, this is breaking and entering,” you grumble, holstering your gun, “Not to mention theft. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you of course,” he replies.

“How considerate,” you snark, “What do you want?” You were already attracted to this man and the longer you spent with him, the harder he became to resist. If you were being honest, you’d fallen in love with him. You knew it wasn’t smart, but you couldn’t help yourself and you knew you should try your hardest to hide your feelings.

“I only want to show you what we can offer, Ms. Winchester,” Mick tells you, “Your mother was very taken by the operation; you may be too if you gave us a chance.”

“I’m a Winchester, but I’m not my mother,” you tell him.

“That much is clear,” Mick replies, “I can tell the speech and fancy weapons won’t persuade you to join us as they did with Mary, but perhaps I could change your mind.”

“I doubt that,” you tell him, “But I’d like to see you try.”

“You’re intelligent, sophisticated,” Mick continues, obvious flattery, “And I could show you things I’m sure would intrigue you.”

“Such as?” you question.

“The workings of our operation and our resources,” Mick replies vaguely, “If you’d like, I could take you to our base, show you the good you could do with us.”

“For you, you mean,” you correct him.

“No, I mean with us,” Mick replies, “Your mother works alongside us, not beneath us. For example, her hunts with Mr. Ketch. They work as a team, not as leader and follower.”

“Like I said, I’m not my mother,” you remind him, “There’s no way in Hell I’d work with a psychopath like Ketch.”

“Well, Love, just as you are not your mother, I am not Ketch,” he replies, “I had rather hoped you’d be my partner, but you wouldn’t have to worry about working with anyone you don’t wish to.” Great, that meant that if you accepted, you’d be working in close contact with Mick. That was probably the biggest reason to decline, but was also the reason you were interested in his proposal.

“And if I prefer to work alone?” you question.

“It would be allowable,” he tells you, “But not advised. All I ask is that you give me one last chance to show you how working with me could be beneficial for the both of us.”

You’d always been intrigued by Mick. Something told you that he wasn’t the man he tried to be at the surface, that he was putting on a mask. You weren’t sure if it was to protect himself, someone he loved, or just for him to benefit from in general. Either way, you wanted to figure him out.

“Fine,” you respond, “I’ll go with you to see your compound.”

“You will?” he asked. Mick seemed surprised by your answer.

“Yeah,” you shrug, “But my brothers never hear of this, understood?”

“Yes, of course,” Mick responds, “As you wish.” You smirk at his eagerness.

“Well, come on then,” you say, nodding toward the stairs. Mick agrees, finishing off his alcohol before heading towards the door. You follow as he leads you to where he’d left his car, a black Bentley. “What a gentleman,” you compliment as he opens the door for you. Mick smiles as he helps you into the car, closing the door behind you.

Taking a seat behind the wheel, Mick brings the car to life and begins driving. “You American hunters, you’re a different breed than I’m used to,” Mick comments.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you laugh.

“I meant no offense,” Mick assures you, “It’s just that you’re much less compliant than the hunters I’m used to. You speak your mind and you act of your own accord, I admire that.”

“You do?” you ask, shock clear in your voice, “You don’t see it as rude and frustrating?”

“Frustrating, yes. Rude, at times; but I see it as a sign of your independence,” Mick tells you, “You have no one to answer to, but you hunt and save lives anyway. You choose to save lives, not because you’re told to, but because you want to.”

“You make it sound like I’m a hero,” you reply, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“Perhaps you are,” Mick tells you, “Your brothers as well.”

“Well, it’s not like I had a choice,” you answer, “Saving people, hunting things, the family business. It’s what I was raised to be.”

“I see,” Mick says, “I wish I had been raised to be something different, to be someone more like you.”

“I don’t think we’re as different as you believe we are,” you tell him. The sentiment makes him smile.

As Mick drives, you talk about small things; books and music, movies and television. Much to your surprise, you have many interests in common. He wasn’t the man you’d summed him up to be at first glance.

“Now, I realize that we’re roughing it a bit here, but don’t let that change how you see our usefulness to you,” Mick says as he pulls up to the gate. He waits for a guard to place their hand against the scanner and the gate to open before continuing on.

“This is what you call roughing it?” you laugh as you examine the building they had constructed, “Try living in a crappy motel room with your two brothers on a several week long hunt. Trust me, you’ll redefine ‘roughing it.’”

“You share a motel room with your brothers?” Mick asks, “Why?”

“It’s not like we’re rich,” you shrug, “And using fake credit cards can only get you so far. The less you spend, the less likely you are to get caught.”

“Well, I can assure you that if you join us, you’ll be treated like royalty,” Mick says, “You’ll always be provided with your own room in nothing less than a three star hotel. No more motels, I can promise you that.”

“Ooh, fancy,” you tease. Mick brings the car to a stop and you get out, taking a better look at the compound. “So, is this where my mother’s been living?” you question.

“We’ve provided her a room here,” Mick answers, “Though whether or not she choses to use it is up to her. You would be offered the same courtesy if you chose to join us. Now, if you’ll follow me.”

Mick gestures towards a gated entrance way and you follow him. He places his hand against a scanner and the door unlocks. Holding it open for you, he explains that if you were to join them, you would have access to the compound any time you wished. All they had to do was add a scan of your hand to the database.

“So, Mr. Davies, what will you be showing me first?” you ask him. Mick smiles and takes your hand, looping your arm through his.

“Well, Ms. Winchester, that’s up to you,” Mick says, “What can I show you to convince you to work with me?”

“I’ll let you figure that out,” you respond, “Go on, impress me.”

“You already know about the weapons we can provide you, so I suppose the armory will do no good,” Mick begins as he leads you through the halls, “Our tactical rooms are much like your war room in the bunker, so those are unlikely to impress you. Our computer systems are far superior to your laptops and we have access to satellites and government systems that can track monsters across the nation, though with your hunting style, I doubt that would convince you to join us. There is one thing here, however, that I bet you’d enjoy.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” you ask him.

“From what I gather, you quite like a good library,” Mick replies.

“Yeah, I’ve got one of those at home,” you answer.

“Not like ours,” he tells you, “After you.” Mick pushes a door open and invites you inside.

“Damn,” you whisper. The library was huge, shelves upon shelves of books. It was much larger than the one in the bunker and you could only imagine the information that was hidden between all these covers.

“This is just a fraction of the knowledge we can offer you,” Mick explains, “If you joined us, you’d have access to all this, not to mention our other resources.”

“I -” you stumble as you let your fingers trail across the spines of the books, “I can’t.”

“May I ask why?” Mick presses.

“My brothers,” you answer.

“For some reason, we fail to attract the top tier of hunters, other than your mother of course,” Mick tells you, “People like you and your brothers steer clear of our organization, but I’d like to change that. I believe that, with your help, we could change that.”

“You want to use me,” you surmise. People had treated you that way before and you’d be damned if you’d let it happen again.

“No,” Mick corrects, “I want to work with you to create a world without monsters, to save lives, and I want to keep you safe in the process.”

“Why me?” you ask him.

“Because I -” he doesn’t finish his sentence, “Let’s continue our tour, shall we?” He extends his hand to you and you slowly place your hand in his. You let him guide you around the complex, showing you all there is to see. He introduces you to the people you’d be working with if you decided to join and tries to explain the advantages of being associated with such a large network.

“As I said earlier, I don’t suppose the tactical rooms would impress you,” Mick says as he guides you down the corridor, “But I had hoped this might.” You turn the corner to find a table laid out with dinnerware and food, flickering candles lighting the room.

“A candle light dinner?” you ask teasingly.

“Always a good idea to put your best foot forward,” Mick answers, “If you’d care to join me.” You let Mick guide you to one of the chairs and he pulls out the seat for you, allowing you to sit. Mick takes the seat across from you, “So, what do you think?”

“The words nice, knowledgeable, and a lot more polite than what I’m used to come to mind,” you tell him.

“Thank you,” Mick chuckles, “But I meant what do you think about the organization, not about me.”

“It wasn’t you I was talking about,” you tease him as you pick up your wine glass and take a sip, “Your compound is nice, there’s so much knowledge here, and everyone here has been very polite.”

“Oh,” Mick replies, his cheeks turning red. He picks up his knife and fork, quickly occupying himself with his food. He keeps his eyes cast down as if he’s embarrassed.

“You’re those things too,” you tell him casually, picking up your fork and playing with your food. Mick peeks up at you, making you laugh. “You like me, don’t you?” you ask him, “That’s what all of this is about.”

“Of course I like you,” Mick replies, “You and your family could be great assets to our cause and -”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you interrupt, “This wasn’t just a tour. You’ve been trying to impress me all day, picking my pocket, holding the door, showing me the library, not to mention all the things you’ve shown that you can do for me, and now this. If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was a date.”

“It’s … I didn’t mean …” he was flustered.

“If you wanted to take me out, all you had to do was ask,” you tell him.

“And if I had asked…?” Mick questions. He places his knife beside his plate and lays his hand against the table, tentatively reaching out to you.

“I’d have thought about it,” you answer, slipping your hand into his, “And probably said no.” Mick huffs in response. “But that doesn’t mean I would’ve wanted you to stop trying,” you add.

“What do you mean?” Mick asks you.

“I have to admit that I like you too,” you tell him, “You’re different from the men I’m used to.”

“And that’s good?” he asks.

“It might be,” you answer, “It’s intriguing to say the least.” Mick smiles, almost to himself. His thumb runs across your knuckles and you keep his hand in yours as you finish your meal.

“Was I successful in changing your mind?” Mick asks as he polishes off his drink.

“I can’t join you,” you tell him, “I won’t betray my brothers the way our mother did.”

“Then I failed,” Mick whispers.

“Not entirely,” you reply. Mick looks at you in confusion. “I want to work with you,” you explain, “But only you. I won’t take orders from any organization, but if you ever need my help, I’d be there.”

“And if you ever need my help, you have it,” Mick tells you.

“Thank you,” you say, squeezing his hand gently. Mick smiles, squeezing your hand in return.

“It’s getting late,” Mick points out, “I can drive you home if you like.”

“Thanks,” you answer, “But I’d like to finish the tour first.”

“But we have,” Mick replies, eyebrows knit.

“Really?” you tease, “Because I don’t recall seeing where you sleep. You told me I could have a room here if I wanted and I assume that means you have one too.”

Mick watches as you stand from the table and make your way to where he sits. Leaning down, you cup his cheek in your hand and press your lips to his. You smile as you break the kiss, taking a step back. The action spurs Mick on.

Standing from his chair, Mick wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to him, his lips meeting yours. He pulls at you as he walks backward, encouraging you to follow him to his room. You fist your hands into his clothing, waiting for the moment you could pull them from his body.

You wanted him, desperately; and you weren’t quite sure why, but he seemed to want you just as badly. Turning a corner, you push him up against a wall. Your hands slide up his body and fist into his hair. Mick hands move down your sides and hook behind your knees. You giggle as he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He holds you tight to him and you can’t help but moan as you feel his arousal through his slacks.

His tongue teases its way into your mouth, both of you fighting for dominance of the kiss. When he reaches the door of his room, he toes it open and steps inside before he kicks it closed behind him. Mick walks you to the bed, climbing onto it before laying you down against it.

“I want you,” Mick mutters against your lips, “Have ever since the bloody moment I saw you.”

“You’re a romantic, aren’t you?” you tease him. Mick hums as he begins leaving kisses down your neck, his scruff tickling your delicate skin. His hand slides beneath your flannel shirt, pushing it back and exposing your shoulder so that he can place kisses along your collarbone.

“Y/N, I’m in love with you,” Mick admits in a whisper, his breath ghosting across your skin. His eyes flick up to watch your reaction. You grasp his shoulder and push him away slightly and his expression instantly falls. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you cup his cheek and capture his lips without a word.

Mick grunts as you wrap a leg around his waist and use the leverage to flip him onto his back. You move to straddle his lap and begin unbuttoning his shirt, your fingertips trailing along the smooth skin beneath the material. Sitting up above him, you push his shirt and suit jacket to the sides, exposing his chest and abdomen.

He looks up at you wide eyed, almost in awe. Mick watches as you pull your flannel shirt from your arms and toss it to the side. Reaching down, you lift your tank top over your head. Mick’s hands are on you in an instant, sliding down your sides, but he seems hesitant. “Y/N, stop,” Mick says as you begin removing your bra.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him.

“I told you I love you and you said nothing,” he points out, “I don’t want to be a notch on your bedpost. If you don’t feel anything for me, then I don’t want this.”

“Mick,” you whisper. He sits up, placing a hand against the bed behind him for support. You run one hand up his chest, cupping his cheek in the other. Mick leans into your touch, waiting for you to continue. “Feeling this way about someone isn’t something that comes natural to someone like me,” you tell him.

“I need to hear you say the words,” Mick presses, “Please.” His eyes search yours and his hand moves to cradle the nape of your neck.

“Mick,” you begin before pausing, “I love you.” The words felt strange falling you’re your lips, but you meant them and saying them felt right. Mick’s smile grows and he pulls you to him, your lips meeting his. Tugging at his clothes, Mick gets the hint. He pulls his jacket and shirt from him and tosses them to the side. At the same time, you reach behind you, unhooking your bra. Mick fingertips slide down your arms as he pulls down the straps of your bra.

“Y/N,” Mick whispers, his hands exploring your body. His fingertips follow the scars on your body, mapping them out. He breaks the kiss and begins leaving kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. When he reaches your breasts, he sucks one of your nipples between his lips, flicking the hardened bud with his tongue. One of his hands comes up to cup the neglected breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Reaching down, you unbuckle his belt and pop open the button of his slacks. He groans as you reach into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his hardened length. “Mick, I need you,” you groan as you begin stroking him. Mick hums in response. His hands move down your body as he pulls back, your nipple falling from his lips.

Mick helps you remove the rest of your clothing and you help him in return before moving to straddle his lap again. “I love you,” Mick repeats, his hands splaying across your back.

You return the sentiment as you grind yourself against him, his cock nestled in your slick folds. Mick groans as you move against him, giving you both the friction you need. You drape your arm over his shoulders for support as you lift your hips and line him up with your entrance. “Oh, Love,” Mick moans as you sink down onto him. You sigh along with him as you take him in to the hilt, your walls stretching to accommodate his size.

Mick’s fingertips dig into your skin as you begin to ride him, his cock dragging along your walls as you slide him in and out of you over and over again. He pulls you closer, as if he couldn’t hold you close enough. Mick whispers his love for you again and again and you whisper the words in return.

Lifting and lowering your hips, pressure begins to build in your stomach. You fist your hand into his hair, your other hand grasping his shoulder. Mick presses kisses along your collarbone and to your breasts. You arch your back as you relish in the feeling of his stubble scratching at your skin.

“Mick , you feel so good,” you moan as he throbs against your walls. You can feel him swelling inside you and you know he’s close. Mick grabs your hips and lifts you off him. You’re about to protest, but Mick flips you onto your back and settles above you. His hands find yours, fingers intertwining as he presses them back against the pillows beside your head.

“Y/N, Love,” Mick groans as he pushes into you again. He presses his lips to yours as he begins moving inside you, keeping the pace you had started. You moan against his lips as he slides against your g-spot with each roll of his hips. He was edging you closer and closer to the edge, the pressure in your stomach nearing the tipping point. Mick cock twitches hard inside you, his orgasm mounting.

“Mick, please,” you beg. You wrap your leg around his waist and draw him deeper with each thrust. Your back arches as you teeter on the edge of orgasm, your walls pulling tighter around him.

“Y/N,” Mick grunts, his thrusts faltering. His hands squeeze yours tight as his rhythm becomes erratic. His left hand releases your right hand and he fists it into your hair. You drag your fingers down his back and dig your fingernails into his skin as the pressure in your stomach releases.

“Mick!” you cry out as your release courses through you. You shudder beneath him, pulling him closer as your walls clamp down around him. Mick grunts in response and after a few more thrusts, follows you over the edge.

“Y/N!” Mick shouts, his cock pulsing as he spills himself inside you. You wrap your leg tighter around him, loving the feeling of him losing himself. His body shudders, his muscles tensing and relaxing with each pulse of his cock. “I love you,” Mick whispers, placing kisses to every inch of you that he can reach.

He nestles his face into the crook of your neck as you both begin to recover. “I love you too,” you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. You stay like this for a long while, but eventually, Mick pulls himself from you, leaving you achingly empty.

Mick moves to your side and you turn towards him, tracing random patterns against his skin with your fingertips. “I should be getting back,” you tell him, though you had no real desire to leave, “My brothers will start to wonder where I went.”

“I’ll drive you,” Mick offers. His hand slides down to your hip, thumb pressing circles against your skin.

“Thanks,” you tell him, before leaning in to kiss him.

“You’re welcome,” Mick replies with a blissful smile. He was in no hurry to take you home either.

“Mick, you know you didn’t have to try so hard to impress me right?” you ask him.

“I didn’t?” Mick questions, eyebrow raised, “And why is that?”

“I loved you long before today,” you tell him, making him grin.

“Just because you love me doesn’t mean I should stop trying,” Mick corrects, “It just means I’ll have to find new ways of impressing you each and every day.”


End file.
